Blunt and Breathless
by sketchingserendipity
Summary: Tokka oneshot, set a few years after the show. Toph is 15, Sokka is 18. An acknowledgment of feelings leads to the thrill of Toph's young life. Rated K-plus for kissing.


_Ahh, Tokka. One of my most favorite Avatar ships. So unlikely to actually occur on the show, but so awesome nonetheless. A section of this piece popped into my head late at night, and I had to build a story around it. Hope it's in character! Enjoy._

* * *

We are down at the bank of a river, Sokka and I, a minute or so outside of camp. He came to this clearing to plot out where we are using the stars, and despite my complete inability to help, I volunteered to join him. I couldn't really say why. Not in so many words. I just… like being around him. A lot. Maybe too much.

I'm telling him about Katara's and my escapades in Ba Sing Se. He's sitting beside me, folding maps while I relate the tale.

"… And I'm sure I looked ridiculous with all that make-up on, but Katara probably carried it off." I snort. "Then again, she is Sugar Queen, so of course my looks are going to pale in comparison. She'll end up marrying some Prince Charming and I'll become an old hag who has too many bearded cats." I let out a dry laugh, but it isn't too convincing. Thinking of my future doesn't thrill me. I don't even know why I went down that path.

His fingers pause in their folding and sweep lightly across my shoulder, sending tremors through my skin.

"Toph, why would you think that?" He says it softly, and I can almost hear his brow furrowing and a slight frown tugging at his lips. His wonderful lips. I've never touched them, of course, but I imagine they have to be wonderful. Out of them fly words that bring color to my cheeks and a silly bubbling feeling to my chest cavity.

"Because it's true," I reply, with more edge in my voice than I mean. "I'm not some great beauty like Sugar Queen, and I'm pretty sure most guys wouldn't like to be made to feel inferior by marrying the world's greatest earthbender." I'm throwing out my self-appointed title to prove my infallibility, but he sees through the show. He always does.

"Well, those guys are insecure losers," Sokka replies frankly, and I smile a little. "And how do you know you aren't pretty?"

This development is unexpected. I'm struck dumb for a moment, my brain wondering through a sparkling fog if a compliment will soon be tossed at me like a stealth weapon, ready to obliterate completely my capacity for speech. I muddle through the fog to reply.

"Boys don't court me like they do Katara. They don't even look at me." I stare unseeing at my fingers picking apart a blade of grass in my lap. With her, heads turn. With me, people barely avoid stepping on my bare toes in the marketplace. I only get noticed when I am a warrior.

"Well that just means they're…" He tenses slightly and pauses, searching belatedly for an appropriate substitute for the popular phrase: blind. "… That they're stupid," he finally asserts, loosening up again.

"Sokka…" I begin to disagree; we've traveled the world over, and all the boys we've met from every nation couldn't simultaneously be idiots. But my words catch in my throat as his real meaning sinks in.

"Or they're not looking close enough," Sokka adds, more gently this time, letting the impact hit me like I'm cannonballing into the open sea–unfamiliar, exhilarating, and not entirely unpleasant.

"How close can they be bothered to look?" I grumble after a few moments, feeling for the familiar ground of sullen attitude. Why am I putting up this façade with him, of all people?

The night air hangs between us in silence a moment, thick and warm, until I can sense Sokka's heartbeat pick up. He must have thought of an idea. My curiosity brings my heart rate up to speed with his.

"Just close enough…" he says in a low voice, continuing the conversation. He shifts his weight until he's very close to me, and his words start to gain meaning. I open my mouth to say something, but I don't know what. Nothing but breath escapes my lips. My small, inexperienced lips, aching with expectancy.

"Toph," he begins a bit unsteadily, his breathing a little shaky.

"Yeah, Ponytail?" I shoot back without thinking, then curse myself silently for my tactlessness.

Sokka laughs, and the air clears. He begins again, with more confidence this time. "Toph, you are one of the most incredible people I've ever met. You're resilient, you're tough, you're fragile and passionate."

I can feel his eyes on me as the heat rises in my face. "You sure you haven't been dipping into the cactus juice again, Sokka?" I force a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. Having this much blood in my face can't be healthy.

"I could not ask for a better partner-in-crime," he continues, and the air starts shuddering in my throat. "And the most amazing part is, even despite your tough-as-nails attitude and earthbending powers, or maybe because of it…" he pauses for a millisecond, catching his breath a little. "You are beautiful."

Three simple words. I thrill to their sound. If a breeze weren't picking up, I would be expiring on the spot, I'm blushing so hard.

"Um," I stammer.

"I'm sorry," Sokka blurts, noticing my face frozen into a look of shock. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He turns away to stare into his lap.

"Sokka." I speak his name definitively, as if I know what I'm about to do. He looks at me and I throw my smaller frame at him, wrapping my arms around his fairly broad shoulders, pressing my flaming cheek to his so that my mouth is right near his ear. "Thank you," I whisper, squeezing him in a very impromptu hug.

To my surprise, he wraps his strong arms around me and squeezes gently back. "You're welcome," his voice, sweet and low, slips into my ear.

I reluctantly begin to loosen my hold and he pulls back a little, bringing us face to face. I can't see what expression he's wearing, but I can feel his warm breath caressing my skin, and urge overpowers me. I lean forward slightly, gradually, intoxicated by our closeness. He makes up the rest of the distance, meeting me in the middle. His lips press against mine in the most perfect compromise of my fifteen years.

My head reels, and a strange lightness overcomes me. I'm filled with air, and I might just float away if it weren't for Sokka's hands on my waist and his lips on mine, anchoring me to this earth.

When we finally part, I'm tingling with sensation. He brushes his hand against my cheek, and I turn towards it, eager to accept all the affection he will give me.

Somehow, we pry ourselves from the bank and make our way back to camp, his hand on the small of my back as a delightful reminder of what has transpired: my first kiss. Aang and Katara are already side by side in their sleeping bags. Katara sits up to look at us, but we ignore her, and she soon rolls over to greet sleep. Aang tilts his head towards her, sneaking a peek before meeting her again, no doubt, in his dreams.

Sokka and I lay out our packs side by side as well. I can feel the vibrations of him climbing in, but for once he doesn't immediately start snoring. Instead, my Snoozles is facing me, watching me settle in. _My_ Snoozles. He really is.

Sleep will not come anytime soon, I know, so I take deep breaths, cleansing my head of the last of its sparkly fog and enjoying the night air and the feeling of his gaze on me. Lying on my back, I face the stars which I can't see but know are there. I imagine that each of them is looking down, envious of me, Toph Bei Fong, who has won her greatest prize. A smile creeps up on me, and I let it. One thought sticks in my head as I begin to doze.

I can't wait till morning.


End file.
